


Infirmary

by rusblk



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP without Porn, hologram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusblk/pseuds/rusblk
Summary: Garak seduces Bashir in the infirmary. Set after "Doctor Bashir, I Presume?"





	Infirmary

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [의무실](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/406986) by rusblk. 



> This is my first ficlet in English. Originally written in Korean. A friend betaed it for me, all grammatical errors still mine.

Garak briskly walked into the infirmary. He was carrying a light scratch which was nothing to a Cardassian but may seem different to a doubtful doctor. It was an uncommon event. The voice of a worried Doctor was always sweet to his ears, but subsequent visits would reduce the charm.

Bashir was sitting at a desk reading something on a PADD. It must be the paper for the neurosynaptic conference. Garak remembers that he worked for it for some months but hadn't made any progress yet. Bashir reacted a bit slowly to the sound of door opening. It must be a habit he picked up to make himself unnoticeable. He's not acquainted to the fact that he does not have to hide it anymore.

"Hello, Garak. Something I can help?"

"Ah, not a serious problem. Just a little scratch and small bruises. A simple treatment would do."

"We'll have to see. Come and sit here."

Garak obeyed. The infirmary was quiet except for the hums from machines. Garak was always shorter than Bashir, but the view of his face, looking up from a chair felt different.

"Would you show me the injury?"

"It's... hard to show you in this. Should I undress?"

Garak lowered his eyes intentionally. Pretending to unbuckle he pressed the skin. A soft growl leaked from his mouth.

"Oh....."

"It seems more serious than you said. Here, let me help."

Lowering his gaze, he watched the doctor placing elaborate fingers on his clothes. The hands were steady and it almost felt sad to see the buttons set themselves apart. Bashir didn't seem to care about the scales at all. He looked straight at the bruises. Garak searched his face for questioning looks about how the injuries were made, but managed to find nothing.

"Mind if I touch them?"

Garak nodded slightly. His body trembled when fingers were laid on the broken ribs. Bashir was not happy.

"It's broken. Small bruises? Why would you lie about something like that?"

"It's just my thing. Never says one thing straight."

'And it drives you a little crazy.' He didn't say it out loud.

"Fortunately, it's nothing fatal. No pieces of scattered bone, and it's relatively clean. I'll fix them right away."

Treatment was nothing more than some whizzing of a machine. 'No wonder Federation is so weak. They never take their wounds seriously.' The doctor was already looking at other injuries. Not enough to penetrate a Cardassian's skin but managed to remain in form, were toothmarks.

"You know what Garak? I decided not to ask anything. Just treat you."

"And from when did you? It worries me, to see someone like you being quiet."

'Of course it's Dax. Anyone on this station knows how often she and the Klingon comes here.'

"I just- decided to respect my patients' privacy. It isn't necessary to keep a record unless it happened during work hours. Why, did you wish to be asked?"

This time it was the doctor who provoked first. Garak knew when to go for it.

"I was thinking that maybe I, the only Cardassian on the station, who has no one to call a friend but you, simple tailor Garak could get a little bit of your attention."

"If you say that. I'll ask. Who was it?"

"I didn't expect that. Isn't it a doctor's role to ask whether I want to erase that scar or not?"  
Said Garak, grinning. Bashir laid out a deep sigh.

"Good. Do you want me to treat your wounds?"

"I want something else. Will you give me your hands?"

He dragged his hands before he could hear the answer. Soft fingertips shook a little when they touched rough skin. Fingernails scratched scales as the hands drew closer. Garak studied the doctor's face but it was all foggy, unable to see through. He interpreted this as an unsaid consent and covered the toothmarks with Bashir's hand. He covered it with his own hand.

"I'll tell you what I told him yesterday. Press here, it's sensitive. You may scratch... around the marks."

There was no need to fake groans anymore. It felt so good to get warm hands over cold skin. Human hands were much warmer and softer than those of Cardassians. His fantasies were about to come true. Garak lowered his eyelids and enjoyed the sensation where his penis slipped out of genitals. Bashir was too concentrated on the delicacy of scales to recognize the bulge on Garak's front. Garak dragged the hand downward.

"Now I would appreciate some care, down here."

Bashir was strangely calm. As if he expected this the moment Garak entered the infirmary. It didn't matter. It was well in the middle of lunch break and no patients were likely to pay a visit. It didn't matter if someone did come. The scandal of a Cardassian tailor and Federation doctor would spread fast. There was no escape from it.

"There, stretch the slit and touch it there. You can put your finger in it. It's fine, I totally trust you when it comes to hygiene. Ah... Now hold me, or would you grab it? Your fingers are pretty. Did I tell you that? I always wanted to. No, harder. Our species have thicker skin than yours, don't forget. There, scratch the bulbs."

Liquid leaked from the scaly penis. Bashir let his palm hold for the transparent, sticky liquid. Garak closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

 

 

"Computer, end Long term Medical Hologram."

Garak shrieked into opening his eyes. Cooled mucus dripped onto the floor. His penis was exposed to cold air and it sliding back inside felt chilling. He rolled his eyes to give a look at the direction the sound came from. Bashir was casually leaning on the infirmary entrance. It didn't take long before he realized his mistake.

"Garak, would you please put your pants on?"

"Oh! Oh, sure."

He succeeded sounding normal but couldn't hide blood rushing under his facial scales. He just - forgot a good doctor never does filthy things in the infirmary - wanted to give their relationship a turning point. 'Our lunches are going to be uncomfortable for some weeks.' Garak swallowed bitterly.

"Clearly, I was totally mistaken." He switched subject in an elaborate manner. "I never knew holograms are supposed to be on without patients' presence. There was none when I came here."

 

Bashir shrugged.

"Well, I guess someone forgot to turn it off."

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't find any holo!Bashir G/B fic, so I had to do it myself. Please let me know if something like that exists.


End file.
